


The Magic Turtle's Wish

by panaceaa, Townycod13



Series: The Magic Turtle [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Clyde is just trying his best, M/M, kind of a coffee shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 18:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16001315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panaceaa/pseuds/panaceaa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Townycod13/pseuds/Townycod13
Summary: Clyde tries desperately to get the attention of the attractive new barista.





	The Magic Turtle's Wish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PaisleyWraith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaisleyWraith/gifts).



> Happy Birthday Pais, you absolute wonderful human! :D

  

This was dumb.

Clyde tapped the cage containing the small turtle and hoped Craig hadn’t been lying about the creature being 'lucky'

Clyde really needed some luck at this point.

The girl swept by his table again, busily earning her paycheck and not paying his table any mind at all.

That checked out, he’d already ordered his warm drink and she really didn’t have any reason she should pay special mind to him. But he’d brought the lucky turtle dammit. Wasn’t luck supposed to turn things up his way? Shouldn’t he be the center of her attention?

He tapped the container again, vaguely registering the agitated way the creature inside slowly rose its head to glare at him.

Well the turtle could get uppity all it wanted. It was a sham, _a sham!_ If he had paid for the damn thing, he would have demanded a refund!

“I just wish she’d look at me…” He murmured.

Now, while Clyde always knew he had somewhat of an interesting way with words leading to strange coincidences that were usually pretty funny, he couldn’t help but be surprised when her eyes not only immediately locked on his but also that they stayed there.

He blinked.

It was an uncomfortably long time before anyone spoke, and of course the spell happened to be broken by the irritated customer she had originally been waiting for.

“Excuse me, my order?”

Still, despite the annoyed words, she still didn’t look away from Clyde for just long enough for him to see the sparks of panic beginning to build behind a clear blue.

“I’m sorry, sir.” Clyde heard her say as she finally turned her head in the customer’s direction, voice strained and trying to stay professional. Yet, even as she spoke, Clyde noticed that her eyes kept flicking back to his direction as if if pained her to look away for too long. “I—I—I’ll send someone to help you immediately!” She then rushed away, bumping into two other tables on her way considering she still couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away. Even after she’d closed the door to back room behind her, Clyde could still feel her eyes watching where he was.

He blinked slowly, thoughtfully, and tapped the top of the turtle cage, “That was weird…” he spoke to no one in particular.

Too weird. It was almost like his wish had come true but like, _weird_. As if someone was fucking with it. That would be stupid though. Clyde finished his coffee and decided it was a good time to flee the coffee shop. This was nowhere near the normal comfort he experienced at the café, watching the blond bouncy girl take orders and _no_ he totally wasn’t being creepy, _Craig_.

But he didn’t make it far.

He could still feel her eyes on him.

“Wait—please wait!”

Clyde did, turning around to see her rushing over and looking as though her entire world had crashed down, “I can’t—“ she stopped herself, a measuring look on her face, “Golly, I mean—“

Clyde nodded, hoping to urge her along.

Maybe this was it, she’d finally noticed him after all this time and yes she was going to confess that she found his frequent staring to be  _sexy as hell_ and it was going to be _magical_ , _Craig_. Why was his best friend such a fucking cynic?

She burst into tears, and there was just something about intense crying that was thoroughly unromantic. “I can’t look _away_!” She sobs.

“...Okay?”

She tugged at a bowed pigtail, “You don’t get it! I can’t look away! Every time I try—I just can’t, something's _wrong_ and when you’re out of sight my eyes start _burning_.”

Oh, that didn’t sound good at all. Wasn’t there a song about burning love or something? Somehow, he imagined it wasn’t supposed to quite be like this.

Clyde shrugged, “What do you want me to do?”

“I—“ She looked down and he regretted his words for putting such despondency on her face. He didn’t know what to do though, it wasn’t like his words had _actually_ done this.

“Do you, uh, wanna walk with me?”

She heaved a relieved sigh at that, he didn’t think it had anything to do with her having a sincere interest in him but he wanted to pretend it did. So he did.

He offered a hand that...she didn’t take, before jamming it back into his pocket in an attempt to play it cool.

“So, you’re Marjorine, right?” He asked hoping to slice up some of the anxiety.

Her eyes widened in alarm, “How do you—“

“Your nametag!” He defended, pointing to the still obvious identification on her chest, “I read your nametag.”

“Oh.” She sighed in relief and it occurred to him that maybe she’d find his not-stalking more creepy than romantic.

Why was Craig always right about things?

Stupid Craig.

“I, uh, I’m Clyde.” He offered lamely and held up the turtle, “And this is my not-so-lucky turtle.”

“Does he have a name?” She asked kindly and Clyde shrugged.

“Clyde Jr.?”

The creature turned to look him straight in the eye. Little black beady eyes glaring into him as if offended at the label. Clyde ignored it.

Marjoine leaned in to wave at the turtle, eyes still locked on Clyde and it was an uncomfortable moment in time for all three of them.

“Hi, Junior,” Marjorine said with a strained smile, “Nice to meet you! I’m sorry I can’t look at you. Golly, I wish I could.”

And then her eyes were finally off of Clyde.

She blinked her eyes rapidly and Clyde wondered if they’d gone dry with the strain of staying open.

“I can look away!” She cheered, testing it out on the scenery and then back to the turtle, “You _are_ a lucky turtle, Junior!”

Clyde wasn’t so sure about that but he also loved the way her face was split with a relieved smile and he wasn’t going to take that away from either of them.

“Yeah.” Clyde said weakly, “Real lucky.”

“I have to go and get back to work now, Clyde.” She smiled apologetically, “Thank you, I know I must have sounded pretty crazy and you were just awful sweet about it all.” She pat his shoulder, “Come by the café again sometime, coffee is on me.”

Yet even as he watched in a slight daze as she hurried away he couldn’t feel completely happy. Something weird was going on. And not weird like that one time he decided it would be funny to play the floor is lava and managed to actually get Craig to step up onto the sofa. This was like... _sinister_ weird. Something was definitely not good and he didn’t know what.

And then her words caught up with him and he made a nearby goose squawk in alarm with the power of his whooping cheers.

Aw, yeah. He had a date! Sort of. Kind of. She thought he was sweet, that was a start.

There was a rattle in the cage and he remembered the _extremely_ lucky turtle.

“This was your doing, wasn’t it?”

The turtle looked completely unimpressed but Clyde took it as a yes. He was going to bring this turtle with him everywhere from now on. This turtle was his new best friend.

***

Coffee date with Marjorine did not go as expected.

He’d arrived during her next known shift. So what if he knew a thing or two about her shifts _, Craig,_ he was only a man. The place was packed to the gills with customers though and she barely had time to drop a coffee on his table before rushing off to her next customer. Even Kenny was here, taking way too much of her time at the front counter as they caught up.

Were they friends? That was stupid. Why did Kenny get to be friends with Marjorine when Clyde could barely get a word in edgewise? He hated this.

It was a good a time as any to test his theory.

He leaned close to his thus far ignored turtle and whispered, “I wish I was the only customer.”

There was a roar that seemed to rattle the walls. A sudden bodiless noise that seemed to come from everywhere at once. A loud and terrifying sound that had all the other customers rising and running away, a stampede he swore he saw Kenny get crushed beneath, his neck cracking under an ill-placed boot.

That didn’t make sense though because if Kenny had died in a stampede people would have stopped to check on him. And besides, as the crowd disappeared there was no sight of a body.

Clyde shrugged the thought away and looked towards Marjorine’s alarmed face.

“What could have happened?” She sounded rattled, like she’d seen something awful and Clyde felt deflated.

It felt like every time he made a wish it just made her upset. Was he doing it wrong? He needed to talk to someone smart about this.

“I’m still here, at least.” He offered but she didn’t look cheered.

“Yeah,” she said vacantly. “I sure am sorry about that Clyde. Golly but I’ve been workin’ so hard waitin on them all and some of those customers left right without payin’.”

Guilt weighed inside him and he avoided looking at the turtle on his table.

“Does that happen often?” He asked, assuring himself that maybe he wasn’t responsible.

“No...not really.” Marjorine looked to her hands and found a cup of coffee she’d been about to give Kenny. “I think I needa sit down for a bit. I’ll go on my break, if that’s okay.”

Clyde didn’t know who she was asking because they were alone. All the same she shakily took a seat next to him and sipped the coffee.

“How long have you been working here?” Clyde knew the answer but Craig had assured him that already knowing shit like that would be creepy.

“Just abou’ two months.” Marjorine giggled, “I had some new expenses and this seemed like a good way to gain confidence while I was at it.”

“You seem plenty confident to me.”

“Aww, that’s awful sweet of you to say, but I have a little trouble talkin’ my mind sometimes.” She breathed out an anxious tremor, “Or just, being myself, ya know?”

Clyde nodded but he had quite a bit of trouble imagining it. Why wouldn’t she want to be herself? She was great.

“I’m glad you did.”

She looked at him curiously and he colored. Crap, how was he supposed to finish that? He should wish for wit next.

“I mean, how else would we have met?”

Smooth. He mentally pat himself on the back.

She squirmed, “Aw, I dunno about that. I’m pretty sure we’ve seen each other around town.”

“I would have remembered a face as pretty as yours,” he said and had to physically restrain himself from a fist pump. That was _two_ , count them, _two_ smooth lines in a row. Eat it,  _Craig_.

She blushed prettily and twirled her hair, “I dunno…thank you though, you’re awful sweet.”

She made the quick excuse that her break was over and tottered away with pink cheeks.

He was _definitely_ getting somewhere.

Though it was weird that no customers had returned at all. He looked about and wondered if his wish could have been misunderstood as him being the only customer here ever.

He couldn’t do that. His allowance wasn’t nearly enough to support a small business. Just in case he whispered to the turtle, “I wish I wasn’t the only customer.” And as a flood of people began returning to the shop, he made a quick getaway. He needed someone smart.

***

_“No.”_

And with that Craig hung up on him.

Okay. Plan B then.

It was lucky he still had the number from when they were lab partners, Clyde selected the name and listened to the ring.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey! Kyle! It’s Clyde from school, can you help me with something?”

“...Why?”

Clyde needed no further encouragement to recount his entire bizarre experience with the turtle. Telling Kyle all about the wishes, and the good luck, and Marjorine’s beautiful eyes...though Kyle insisted he not drift off topic so he kept that part to a minimum. Although personally he would argue that it was the most interesting part. Well, that and how he was so totally smooth enough to catch her attention. He was a real ladies man.

Kyle’s killjoy voice cut into his very important tangent.

“--sounds like a monkey’s paw.”

“No, man, I told you, it’s not a monkey. It’s a turtle.”

“…I’m hanging up, Clyde.”

“No! Wait!” Clyde was too late and the line was dead.

He had terrible friends. They all sucked. Who was someone helpful who didn’t always act like a total _jerk_?

There _was_ Token but he was on vacation with his family. And Jimmy was preparing for some weird important comedy thing.

His thoughts lit on one individual and he found the number in his contacts.

“Butters! Do you have time to meet for coffee? I need help with something.”

***

Butters was weirdly shifty.

Clyde wondered if the topic was making him uncomfortable but that was weird. Butters was normally so enthusiastic about things. If anyone thought a weird monkey-turtle was interesting, it had to be him, right?

Also Marjorine didn’t seem to be on shift, which was a shame. But it also meant he could spend plenty of time recounting the curve of her ass and that was a very important thing to tell the world about. Much more important than some dumb turtle. He left the thing at home, just in case it was plotting against him. In that case he’d be one step ahead of the weird little dude.

“Ah, golly Clyde. A wish-granting turtle? Doesn’t that seem a bit strange?”

Clyde shrugged, “All I know is I wished for Marjorine to look at me and she did. And then she couldn’t stop, it was weird. Then _she_ wished she could look away, and she did!”

Butters shifted again, eyes darting around the almost empty establishment, “Wh-why would you wish for that, anyways? Do ya know this Marjorine girl or somethin’?”

Clyde grinned goofily and leaned on his palms, “I know she’s my future! We’re totally meant for each other!”

Butters stilled, eyes on the table and face pink, “What do ya know about her though?”

“I know that if a girl like that gave me a chance I’d probably die. Like seriously, I’d fall in love with every single part of her all over again. She’s _perfect_ , Butters! You should see the way she smiles. It’s fucking magical, bro!”

The pink drained from Butters cheeks and he was frowning. Clyde couldn’t help but notice his fists looked clenched as well. Did he say something wrong?

“No I don’t think you would.”

“And how would you know that? I could so totally.”

“Cause’ I _know,_ okay.” Butters bit back.

Clyde felt anger blossom in his chest, “And I’m asking why you’re so sure you know how _I_ feel!”

Bright blue eyes brimming with angry tears met his own in a spiteful glare as Butters watery voice broke out, “Because you _haven’t!_ ” and he slammed his hands on the table before running clean out of the cafe.

The entire place looked from the still swinging door and back to Clyde and he figured it was time to make himself scarce.

***

“I just don’t get it. Why would Butters get so angry?”

The turtle didn’t answer, just stared at him malevolently from inside its confines.

“Maybe _he_ likes Marjorine too.”

If turtles _could_ roll their eyes, Clyde was almost positive this is what it would look like.

“Okay, well, if not, then why?”

The temptation tickled in his gut that if maybe he just made one more wish then he could magically find out.

It felt wrong somehow though.

And if it went anything like his previous wishes had…

Besides, he wouldn’t want to endanger Butters in any way. He’d always liked the butterball. He was a really chill dude most of the time and really fucking nice. Even when no one deserved that kindness.

Clyde frowned at his ceiling.

Butters was a great pal, if he was honest, he didn’t want his feelings for Marjorine to get in the way of their friendship.

“That’s it, I’m going to Butters’ place!”

He picked up the cage this time, just in case he needed magical backup. The wishes might be potentially dangerous but he also definitely didn’t want to go in unprepared.

It was important he got this right after all.

Unfortunately, it was Mr. Stotch who responded to his knock.

“What are you doing here?” The man near sneered.

Clyde didn’t remember the man being this unfriendly. A bit strict but this was just rude.

“Uh, I’m looking for Butters?”

“I have no son!”

And the door was slammed in his face.

“...Okay?”

That was…weird. Clyde pulled away from the house and looked up to the window he knew belonged to the other boy.

The lights weren’t on but he figured just to be safe he’d give it a shot. Deftly he tossed a pebble to the window.

No response.

Again he tried. And again. ...And then a few more times because he was actually having fun.

The window opened to the tear-stained cheeks of Mrs. Stotch, “Leave us _alone_.”

“Where’s Butters?”

She broke into a sob, “He _left_ , he asked us to call him _Marjorine_. He said he wanted to _change_ . And he _left_!”

Huh. That was weird. Butters wanting to be called Marjorine.

“Wait, so he ran away from home?”

Mr. Stotch appeared in the window, face a picture of wrath, “I won’t have that _abomination_ in my house!” And with that, he slammed the window shut.

What the hell?

….Wait.

He tossed another stone at the window, it opened immediately and Clyde was tempted to make a break for it. Mr. Stotch was perfect picture of fury.

He pressed on though, fueled by the suspicion that was bubbling beneath his thoughts, “How long ago did he leave?”

“A month ago!” He shouted before the window slammed again.

Clyde looked to the turtle like it was a calculator. Then he raised his free hand as if it had all that fancy mathy stuff written all over it that would give him all the answers. And then he threw math to the wayside because let's be real, he failed algebra so hard.

And so, he turned and walked back to the coffee shop where he planned to do some good old fashioned thinking, because at the moment he was thoroughly confused.

***

He’s about halfway to the coffee shop when it hits him.

First comes the total realization of exactly what he’d just learned. The facts completely sinking in and bringing his steps to a jarring halt.

“...They basically kicked him out,” he voices aloud to himself, frowning down at the ground. Sure, they’d told him that Butters had left on his own, but that was only because Butters’ knew that they wouldn’t accept him. He ran before things could really get bad. It was really sad. “Oh this is so sad Alexa, play Despacito,” Clyde says softly before snickering to himself and shooting his gaze to the turtle who was staring at him blankly. “Damn I should have named you Alexa, little demon turtle. So many opportunities.”

Yet no sooner are the words out of his mouth that another thought strikes him and all quality humor flies right out the window.

Butters went by Marjorine.

Marjorine, like that girl in the coffee shop. The one with the cute little pigtails, and the ass he’d admired on more than one occasion. The one with the beautiful blue eyes and that adorable personality...and that body that was like _damn_.

Butters had blue eyes. And his ass was also pretty great, and no he didn’t really stare at it that much, shut up _Craig_. Their voices, and their mannerisms, and the use of the word ‘golly’ that he’d pretty sure no one actually used besides the both of them and…

“Oh my god.”

He looks down at the unimpressed turtle with wide eyes.

“Butters _is_ Marjorine.”

Damn, he figured that out real fast. He was a real smart cookie, yessiree.

And with that thought, he starts running.

The cage rattles in his hands as he grips it tightly as not to drop it. There could be no pausing on this adventure, he had one extremely important place to be. However, it’s while he’s on his way back to the coffee shop that he quite literally runs into the very person he’d been trying to find.

Him and Butters smash into each other, and he barely registers the blond’s “Oh gee,” as Butters gets pushed back and in his stumble Clyde promptly loses his grip on the turtle’s cage. It crashes to the ground in a small explosion of glass, and Clyde stars down at it in horror expecting to see a bloody and cut up reptile. The turtle however, just peeks out from where it had taken shelter within his shell and glares up at him with pure malice.

Clyde ignores it and gets back to more important matters.

“Butters!” He says, stepping forward and grabbing the now alarmed boy’s shoulders. “You’re Marjorine!”

Within his grasp the blond suddenly goes rigid, eyes widening in what might be horror as he attempts stuttering out an unintelligible reply. “I--I don’t-”

“Why you lookin’ like that for?!” Clyde says with a wide smile, refusing to let his excitement of discovery waver by Butters’ strange reaction. “This is great! It’s like my bro and my future wife just became the same person!”

Butters’ cheeks flush an adorable shade of pink. “Did’ya just say your future wife...?”

It’s only then that Clyde realizes exactly what had just come out of his mouth, and he releases his hold on the blond’s shoulders and takes a step back. Rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment he admits a bit sheepishly, “I didn’t really mean to say that.”

Tilting his head at him, Butters gives him a long look as if he’s trying to figure him out.  ‘Did ya really mean that?”

“Uh what, the wife thing?”

Butters smiles, small and a little unsure. “Gee, um no, not that. I mean do’ya really not mind that Marjorine is me?”

Clyde returns Butters’ smile, pushing down all nervousness. Damn, it was times like these he wished he was better with words, but he’d just have to go and try his best. “Of course not, Butterball! You’re both- or well I guess just you…” he frowns as he puzzles out his words before finally finishing with, “I mean, you’re fine as hell.”

He’s so very glad that Craig wasn’t here to see that. The guy was a terrible wingman and he’d lose all smooth-operator credit for the rest of his life he’d been here to witness that trainwreck.

Butters however, doesn’t laugh. And instead his smile widens to its normal breathtaking shine, even his eyes sparkle. Clyde swallows thickly, stomach knotting at the sight.

“So uh,” Clyde starts again when Butters just keeps looking at him like he’s the best thing since sliced bread but doesn’t actually _say_ anything. “I was uh…” Damn his eyes were pretty. Clyde rubs at the back of his neck again and flicks his gaze away for a moment to collect himself. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out with me.”

He chances a look back at Butters and is almost brought to his knees by the overwhelming amount of happiness suddenly aurating off of him. “Ya mean on a date?” He asks, voice a little higher pitched than normal.

“Yeah.”

And suddenly his arms are full of Butters Stotch as the blond abruptly throws himself forward and wraps his arms tightly around his middle. The air is squeezed from Clyde’s lungs, but he doesn’t mind, returning the sudden hug with a laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes?”

Butters nods into his chest, and when he finally looks up at Clyde with eyes seemingly gleaming with tears and an award-winning smile, his heart melts.

This was good. Really good. Suck it _Craig_ , he Clyde Donovan was a _master_ of romance.

It’s several moments before they pull back from each other with matching grins still in place. And it’s only then that he remembers the turtle and sees it slowly making its way down the sidewalk as if its little turtle-self was trying to skip town.

“Oh no you don’t,” Clyde says, taking a few steps forward and picking up its little body. It glares at him again, but Clyde once again ignores it.

“Looks like you’re gonna half’ta get Junior a new cage, huh?” Butters supplies, walking over to them, but Clyde shakes his head.

“Nopeee, not a chance. Things are finally good and I’m not going to let this weird wish turtle ruin it.”

“So what are ya gonna do?”

“Not me, _we_.” He throws an arm around Butters’ shoulders and tugs him close. “We’re a team now Butters, and you’re gonna help me find him a new home.”

“And how are we gonna do that?”

Clyde smirks, “The same way the Girl Scouts do. After all, just like cookies, no one can resist an adorable turtle.”

And from within his arms, the turtle just continues to glare up at him.

 


End file.
